


Field Work 101

by icyvanity



Category: Stitchers (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, I mean it's fake for a case, Lust, Making Out, Slight Smut, Smut, actually, and then they bang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-18 01:00:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4686251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icyvanity/pseuds/icyvanity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kirsten chuckled, “Someone’s enthusiastic.”<br/>“Well, you would be too if you were with someone so,” he just made a gesture up and down her body, and she smirked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Field Work 101

**Author's Note:**

> "Camsten smut where Kirsten and Cameron have to go on to the field and act like a couple and end up acting too good"

Maggie should have known they weren’t going to heed her orders when she told them to leave the field work to the professionals. Kirsten had stitched into a man killed due to his involvement in a crime ring the day before and Fisher was exhausting his resources trying to find a killer, with little success. That’s how Cameron ended up spending his Friday night being dragged from one dark alley to the next, trying to find the one Kirsten swore held all the answers.

“Keep up, will you, Dr. Goodkin?” She called over her shoulder as she trudged through the grime, shooting him a grin that he only caught a glimpse of in the dim alley light she was passing under.

Cameron grumbled at this, pointing out their unsanitary conditions, but Kirsten ignored him. Suddenly she stopped, and he saw her turn towards him with an expression he didn’t see often on her features; fear.

Kirsten whispered, “There’s someone over there looking at us.” Cameron looked in the direction she jerked her head, and indeed saw a dark shape further down the alley roughly the size of a man.

The man started to move, “Kirsten,” Cameron warned quietly. Kirsten caught the movement too, out of the corner of her eye, and was suddenly face to face with Cameron.

“Kiss me,” she whispered urgently.

“Ki—What?!” Cameron demanded, eyes widening at her request.

She rolled her eyes and grabbed the front of his jacket. Kirsten pushed him up against the wall, ignoring his subconscious comment about ruining his jacket, and kissed him. Her hands were fisted in his jacket and Cameron’s arms flailed before wrapping around her waist. He heard footsteps getting closer, and bit down on Kirsten’s lip lightly. Her answering gasp sent a pang of _want_ straight through him.

“Hey, what are you—” the man had finally come upon them, and Kirsten jolted away from Cameron. She took one look at the man’s face and tazed him, before his hand outstretched hand could wrap around her wrist.

When Fisher arrived and took the killer into custody, he only gave their swollen lips and rumpled clothing an amused look before thanking them for their help and telling them to never do field work again.

* * *

 

_Of course_ they did field work again. The victim was 23 year old Holly Brown, who was found dead of cyanide poisoning. They were currently staked out in a restaurant the girl frequented, so often that Kirsten believed it had something to do with her death.

“So, are we supposed to be on a date?” Cameron asked; it seemed like a date—nice restaurant, formal attire, just the two of them. Kirsten wore a red dress with a drop neckline, hair in loose curls. She glanced over at him, taking a break from surveying the restaurant for anything suspicious.

“That’s our cover, yes,” Kirsten replied, giving him a look that screamed _obviously_.

“I meant—never mind what I meant,” Cameron muttered, and Kirsten rolled her eyes at him.

She opened her mouth to make a retort, but paused and then whispered instead, “That man was in Holly’s memory. She was _afraid_ of him.” Kirsten stood up and started walking after the man, who had disappeared down a hallway.

“ _Kirsten_ ,” Cameron whispered angrily, but scrambled out of his chair and followed her.

“That’s the kitchen,” Kirsten said, eyebrows drawn down in confusion. Suddenly, realization dawned on her face and she said, “He poisoned her food.”

“Stretch, I’m pretty sure poisoning someone’s food hasn’t been a prevalent form of murder in the past hundred years, at least,” Cameron said.

Kirsten shot him a glare, before looking back into the kitchen, “I know what I saw.” She froze and looked back at him with wide eyes, “He saw us, Cam.”

“Well, this is happening again,” Cameron said, pulling Kirsten closer; he pressed his lips to hers. He noticed her eyes open with surprise, but she responded fast. Kirsten’s hands found their way down, where they clasped onto his hips and pulled their bodies flush against each other. Their chests were pressed together, and Cameron knew he could feel his heart beating so fast it was close to popping out of his chest. Her scent overwhelmed him, distracting him from trying to listen for the man walking up.

“Excuse me,” the man said impatiently, snapping them out of their haze. Cameron broke away, shooting the man a dazed look; the feel of Kirsten’s warm breath against his neck made it hard to for him to think, but thankfully she took this as a cue for her to respond.

“Oh, I’m _so_ sorry,” she gushed, and Cameron glanced down at her; her eyes were dark and her lips slightly swollen, both sending a pang of desire through him, “We were just looking for our waiter. We want to cut our dinner, ah, _short_ ,” she continued, hand finding its way into Cameron’s pocket. Kirsten withdrew his wallet, and a hundred from within, “I think this should cover it, Mr.—?”

The man’s eyes bulged at the bill in her hand, which was graciously overpaying, but her kissing up had worked. “Mr. Jordan,” he said silkily, taking the money from her, “I’ll let your waiter know you left. Have a _good_ night.” He gave the pair of them a pointed look, directing them towards the exit down the hall.

“Thank you _so_ much, Mr. Jordan,” Kirsten smiled and brushed past him, pulling Cameron behind her.

The door led them to the street on the side of the restaurant, where Kirsten was easily able to hail a cab. She sent Fisher a text with the murderer’s name and how he did it, and then slid the phone into her bag. Cameron, who hadn’t taken his eyes off her since they left the restaurant, managed a smile when he caught her eye.

“That was…nice,” he said slowly, knowing he didn’t sound as casual as he was trying to.

“Yes, it was,” she replied. Cameron was going to take this as his cue to leave the subject alone, but her hand sought his as they rode the rest of the way to his apartment in silence.

“Do you want to come upstairs?” He asked, trying not to get his hopes up just for them to be shot down.

“ _God_ , yes.”

* * *

 

Cameron doesn’t remember much of the trip from the car into his apartment, but he’s drawing blanks as Kirsten’s lips are on his again and she’s moving them towards his room. She pushed him down onto his bed, climbing into his lap. Her hands fisted in his hair, and she dragged a moan out of him when she pulled on it.

She broke away, eyes half-lidded with desire as she asks, “Do you have…?”

Cameron knew what she was asking and scrambled to the drawer beside his bed, almost pushing her off  the bed in the process. Pulling out the unopened box, he held it up.

Kirsten chuckled, “Someone’s enthusiastic.”

“Well, you would be too if you were with someone so,” he just made a gesture up and down her body, and she smirked.

She pulled him back towards her, ghosting her lips across his, “I _am_.”

Cameron scoffed, “ _Please_. You’re at least a 12 and I’m about a 6.”

Kirsten raised a brow and trailed her fingers down his stomach; he arched into the touch, eyes shutting. He felt her tugging at the bottom of his shirt and raised his arms in the air as she pulled it off.

“Stop being so self-deprecating when you’ve got the package,” she whispered, pushing him down. Kirsten trailed her lips down his scar, and he felt her hand slide up his thigh to where he was already hard. She chuckled again, amending, “The _whole_ package.”

Shaking his head, Cameron pulled her back up, “Come here, you _minx_.”

* * *

 

They awoke the next morning to squealing. Cameron blinked, everything blurry from falling asleep with his contacts in, but he could make out the familiar shape of Camille at the end of his bed. He heard a _snap!_ and was blinded by the following flash; he heard Kirsten groan beside him, pulling the blanket over her head.

Linus walked in a while later after Kirsten had decided it was safe to pull the blanket down from her face and was resting her head on Cameron’s chest, ignoring Camille’s astonished questions.

“ _Dude_!” Linus shouted, holding his hand out to Cameron. Cameron left him hanging, rubbing his hand over his face. Linus shook off the rejected high five, and turned to Camille.

“Fisher won the bet!” She crowed, pulling out her phone to send a text (and most likely a photo of them in bed, as well).

Kirsten sighed into his skin, and Cameron pulled the blanket over both of their heads this time.

**Author's Note:**

> [Come hang out with me on tumblr](http://lady-gryffindor.tumblr.com)


End file.
